Of Firewhiskey and Feathers
by Nikki2408
Summary: After a wild round of Truth or Dare and a bit too much Firewhiskey, our favorite Gryffindor Princess finds herself in a spot of trouble when she wakes to find herself covered in honey and feathers... with a certain Slytherin Prince by her side. AU/T/D H


**Hello everyone!**

**I have always wanted to write a 'Truth or Dare' fic and I have finally decided that it was time to do it! Now, just a quick little note: I have NEVER been drunk before so if the characters either seem too drunk or not drunk enough, please don't hesitate to point it out to m in a review. :) **

**I realise that my story may be quite stupid... yeah, it's certainly not the best story on the internet... but all well, I had a go, didn't I?**

**Also, this is a Dramione...but we'll get into the good stuff later! I promise! :)**

**At the moment this is going to be Rated 'T'... I'll bump the rating up a bit as soon as I upload the grittier stuff. Plus, there will be a warning at the start of the chapters with that content. **

**Righteo, enough of my babbling! **

**Disclaimer: I don't currently own Harry Potter and I highly doubt that I ever will. All I own is the plot...or lack thereof ;) **

_**Chapter One**_

_**The idea **_

It was a dark, cool winter's night and the slight breeze softly tickled the frost covered windows of the seventh year boys' dormitories in the Gryffindor tower.

Fortunately for the students, the cold weather wouldn't dare penetrate the glass and therefore instead of either being rugged up in bed reading various magical books or completing last-minute work that hadn't been finished in class, they were sitting around a in a small group by the dwindling fire, passing around yet another large bottle of firewhiskey.

Of course, only the more senior students were sitting around in the small circle; they wouldn't allow any younger students to partake in their drunken acts (although considering how far gone they were in that moment, anyone could have asked to join and they would have let them in with open arms.).

Smuggling the Firewhiskey had been quite the feat; however Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas had discovered a secret stash of the beverage right behind Hagrid's hut- lying stacked neatly under what looked to be some sort of strange plant with tentacles- during a detention that had been given to them by a very bored looking Severus Snape.

Of course, being Gryfindors, the two boys thought that it would be highly amusing to take the Firewhiskey and drink it all (or so they said...many had doubted them in the past over their 'alcohol holding' skills) atop the Astronomy tower.

So after their detention, they had stealthily looted as much of the Firewhiskey as they could and snuck it under their robes until they reached the Fat Lady.

However the most unfortunate turn of events had occurred only hours ago whilst they were busy cleaning out blast-ended skrewt enclosures for Professor Hagrid: A password change.

So when the previous password- _Fortitudo_- didn't work, they found themselves in quite the predicament. What if Professor Mcgonagall happened to pass by on duty and found them standing covered in dirt and burns holding ten bottles of Firewhiskey stashed beneath their robes?

However, after many minutes of trying to guess the password (and never once getting it right), they caught a lucky break in the form of a certain bushy-haired girl carrying a load of books.

"Hermione! Thank goodness it's you!" They had said excitedly as the young witch took in their messy appearance disapprovingly.

"Do you two need the password?" She had asked once she had reached the portrait.

"Er, yes." An embarrassed Dean said as he looked over at his friend, as if for reassurance that he had told Hermione the right thing.

"Do you know the new password, Hermione?" Asked Seamus, nodding slightly to his companion.

"Of course I do," Smiling, the witch told the portrait, "Diem occupare," and the portrait swung open to reveal the familiar red and gold of the large Gryffindor common room which was bathed in the warm, glowing light of the roaring fire.

Students from just about each year level sat mixed amongst the few tables, conversing over books, parchment and quills.

Hermione had left the boys, leaving them for Harry Potter who sat next to Ron Weasley on the couch. Both of the boys' foreheads were scrunched in confusion as they tried with all their might to understand a particular question. Ron looked up at Hermione as she approached and his face brightened immediately upon realising who it was and he began asking her multiple questions about their school work.

However the two boys- still carrying the Firewhiskey- gave a few students warm smiles and continued on their way up the long spiral staircase toward the seventh year boys' dormitories where they eagerly unloaded their findings.

Ten bottles of pure Firewhiskey fell upon one of the beds in a muffled 'poof' and in no time at all the boys had eagerly opened a bottle and had immediately taken a long swig.

Who was to say that the boys couldn't hold their alcohol?

About an hour after Seamus and Dean had been sighted heading quickly up the spiral staircase; the Golden Trio had departed, wishing each other a cheerful goodnight.

Heading up toward the boys dormitories, Harry and Ron heard the strangest sound.

"Did you hear that, Ron?" asked Harry, stopping still as soon as he heard he strange noises.

"Is that- is it laughter?" Ron asked, craning his neck upwards toward the noise.

Sure enough, after a couple more seconds of listening, the two boys shared a knowing look and scurried silently toward their dorms, curious to know what the strange noises were.

If their previous discoveries had anything to do with what was happening then...well, the boys didn't want to really know what all that incessant laughter and slight groaning was part of.

Stopping at the wooden door, there was only a small moment of hesitation before they barged in, their eyes already shielded from what they thought would have scarred then for the fifth time around.

However, when the laughter didn't cease and the groaning didn't stop, they both dared a small peak and discovered that the laughter and groaning wasn't due to what they imagined at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Sitting upon Neville's bed was Seamus and Dean; Dean laughing at a groaning Seamus whose green tinted face was hanging over the side of the bed.

"I think that he's gonna vomit mate," said Ron, speaking out loud to a worried looking Harry.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry replied, not wishing to see Seamus vomit all over the floor.

As if noticing the pair for the first time, a very dazed looking Dean pointed at his sick friend excitedly, "He's gonna chuck!" and with that, he took another swig of Firewhiskey and continued laughing. "Can't even hold his alcohol, can he?" laughed Dean again, leaning backwards too far and falling off the bed in a crash.

"Woah," exclaimed Harry, running toward Dean who was still cackling as if finding being on the floor a humorous experience, "Easy there Dean," Dean was chuckling lightly as he looked up at Harry and with a big smile, offered him his large, almost empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Wanna have a swig, Harry?" he asked in a surprisingly sober voice. Although Harry actually really did feel like a drink of Firewhiskey, he looked down at Dean who was in a bad shape and decided against the temptation.

"Nah, I'm good Dean. You might wanna get changed though and get into bed. Me and Ron will clean this place up before the others get here."

"Ron and _I_, Harry!" said Dean, correcting Harry of his mistake.

Ashamed at having his grammar corrected by someone he thought was drunk, Harry smiled abashedly, took the still offered bottle and gulped down a mouthful of the beverage, having decided that it was only Seamus who was drunk and Dean was actually the responsible one so really, what harm could it do?

"What're you doing Harry?" asked Ron, who had seen Harry take a swig.

"De-stressing," He replied with a smile and air quotes.

"Atta right chap," said Dean, giving Harry a pat on the back.

It was quite some time before Hermione sat up in bed with a huff and what she deemed to be an explicative.

"Honestly!" she exclaimed, ripping off her covers and putting her slippers on in a hurry.

The laughter and banging across the hall had been bothering her for a good half hour and her patience, by then, had worn quite thin.

Taking her dressing gown from the end of her bed and tying it up at the front, she navigated her way past all the four poster beds that held sleeping girls and made her way to the hall.

She banged angrily upon the wooden door and waited impatiently for someone to open it.

"Hermione, What are you doing here?" Asked Neville Longbottom, coming to stand beside her while she fumed.

"Waiting for someone to _answer this stupid door_!" she yelled, banging of the wood furiously with her last words. Neville stood back slightly, worried by the witches' anger.

The muffled laughter stopped then, and the door creaked open slowly revealing what looked to be a _very_ hammered Harry Potter.

"Harry!" she proclaimed, taking in his appearance. His red and gold tie tied around his head and his shirt showcased one big slit that ran across his chest. "What in the world," she said, raising an eyebrow, "Happened to you?" That was when she caught a whiff of his breath and she just knew that he had been drinking a bit too much.

"Harry! You should know better than to drink Firewhiskey on school grounds!" She pushed past him and entered the room that also had a horrid Firewhiskey stench.

That was when she spotted Ron attempting to make-out with a pillow next to one of the un-made beds.

"Ron!" she yelled, running toward him and ripping the pillow out of his hands. "Really!"

"Her-my-own-eeeee," he slurred, trying to pronounce her name correctly. He looked up at her slowly and attempted to stand...and somehow managed to.

"Gosh Ron, how much have you and Harry had to drink tonight?" she watched as he groggily raised an arm and pointed toward the now two empty bottles laying on one of the beds.

"Oh Ronald..." she sighed, walking toward the bottles, carefully stepping over Seamus who was lying on the floor singing under his breath.

"Why did you all put the bottles on _my_ bed?" whined Neville, attempting to remove them all.

"Why did you all decide to get drunk?" Hermione asked no one in particular, trying to help Neville with the removal of all the bottles.

"We needed to let our hair down a bit, Hermy," said Harry, going to stand besides her still reeking strongly of Firewhiskey. "You know, you could really use a good drink," he added, slinging an arm around her form.

"Harry! How dare you suggest such a thing!" she cried, shoving his arm off her shoulders, horrified at the fact that he had suggested that she join them in their senseless drinking. If anything, she was going to make sure that they got to bed safely... without partaking in any drinking.

She then turned to see Neville taking a deep swig from one of the bottles on the bed.

"Neville!" she yelled, taking the bottle from his hands, "What do you think that you're doing?"

She was shocked at his behaviour. She thought that Neville didn't drink!

"Come on, Hermione, graduation is next week. When are you going to get the chance to do this again?" he asked her.

She mulled what he said over and over. She knew that the answer should have been a straight and simple 'no', but she instead found herself wondering if she should just join them. What harm could it really do? She had really been hanging out for another thrill.

What's the worst that could happen? It's not like she needed to study for NEWTS anymore and she was already far ahead of everyone else in all her classes.

Then, before she could change her mind, Hermione took a long drink of the bitter, burning liquid and began chatting animatedly with Neville about muggle plants.

That is how the group of students came to sit drunkenly in a tight circle upon Neville's bed watching as one of Hermione's magic fires slowly burned out while telling each other over exaggerated stories about their school days.

"-remember when we played Truth or Dare with Lavender and she-," said Dean, masking grotesque gestures with his hands which made Hermione's face pale.

"-Oh yeah! She did that thing with Parvati, remember?" included Seamus who was now apparently feeling a lot better.

"Oh boy did they go at it until one of their-"

"Ok, ok boys!" said Hermione, covering her ears, "I really don't need to know about their sexual endeavours!"

The boys looked at her questioningly until Seamus asked, "Who said anything about them being sexual endeavours?" At that, Hermione's face turned from stark white to tomato red and she put her head in her hands.

"Someone's mind is in the gutter!" said Ron in a sing-song voice, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

"Oh shut up Ronald," she said, completely embarrassed. However, Harry came to her rescue when he realised something very important:

"Aw look at that," Harry started in a depressed voice, peeking through the opening of one of the five empty bottles that had littered the floor around them, "it's all gone!"

Taking the bottle from Harry's hands, Seamus too looked through the opening and let out an angry breath, "I can't believe this- I really and truly can't." He said, shaking his head slowly as if this were the worst possible scenario.

"Cheer up men," began Neville, however after taking one look at Hermione's expectant face he added, "and women- I have an idea!" it had occurred to the group that while Neville was drunk, he was quite confident and cheerful...something that he certainly wasn't while sober. It was like a breath of fresh air for the others because seeing a different side of Neville seemed to make the world just that bit more interesting.

"And what idea would that be?" asked Ron- who by now, was prying the lid off another bottle.

"Truth," he said in a voice that sounded as if he were announcing the next king of England, "or Dare!"

A series of collective gasps was heard around the room and then nothing. There was complete and utter silence...not a sound to be heard.

"What's Truth or Dare?" asked Dean smartly as he mopped up the firewhiskey that he had sprayed out of his mouth upon hearing Neville's suggestion.

"Mate, you don't know what Truth or Dare is?" asked Harry, fingering the Gryffindor tie around his head.

"No, never heard of it in my life," he replied, taking a swig of the firewhiskey bottle that Hermione had passed him.

The small group of people looked at him as if he had sprouted another head.

"You- you've never heard of it?" asked Ron, whose face was almost as red as his hair due to the liquor that he had consumed so far that night.

"Never," said Dean, eyes wide and bambi-like. He looked to be the picture of innocence; however those who knew him also knew that he was far from innocent.

Apparently over the initial shock of hearing that Dean didn't know what Truth or Dare was, Hermione decided to explain it to him.

"Basically, we take turns at spinning the bottle and asking each other Truth or Dare. For example," she said, turning to Harry before saying, "Harry, ask me Truth or Dare."

Smiling, Harry complied and asked.

"Truth," said Hermione, taking a gulp of the firewhiskey, "and now, Harry has to come up with a question to ask me...which I must respond honestly to no matter what the question is."

Dean nodded solemnly and started twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly while Neville spun the empty bottle.

It landed on Harry.

"Truth or Dare Harry?" Asked Neville excitedly, already thinking of all the possible questions he could ask and dares that he could order him to do.

"Ahhh," breathed Harry, leaning his head back before snapping it forward with the exclamation, "Dare!"

"Oh, you're going to love this one..." said Neville, rubbing his hands together.

**Hate it? Love it? Thought it sucked? Thought it rocked? **

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